


Who's Destiel?

by tangerine (arte)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Dean and Cas should stop tormenting Sam with their crap, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sam Ships It, Season/Series 10, Slight 10x10 spoiler at the last chapter, The author owes sincerest apology to Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arte/pseuds/tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam may have provided the match, but Dean was the one who built the bomb. Now, Cas thinks Dean is in love with Destiel.</p><p>Or, someone please save Sam from these idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Sam has to make this very clear.

He didn't mean to create this moster of a situation. He didn't. 

He may have inadvertently started this, but he hasn't even been informed of the progress until now, sitting in front of an angel and making an effort to reassure him while simultaneously trying not to outright propose to Cas on Dean's behalf. Just because Dean had put his foot in his mouth, it shouldn't automatically fall to Sam to extract it and pretty it up with pedicure on top of that, and Sam would never forgive Dean for making him think about that ridiculous metaphor.

Sam's usually excellent at using a metaphor.

Unfortunately, the discussion about his linguistic skill must be pushed aside for later, interesting subject it may be, as Sam deserves the chance to defend his momentary lapse in language choice in full detail.

So, this is how it started :

It was a normal enough day, where Sam and Dean were sitting in the impala, about to go to Gas'n'Sip and take a break from another long drive. This was when Dean's phone started ringing.

"Who's that?" Sam asked, not knowing how his innocuous question would be the beginning of the slippery scope that pushed the snowball rolling. 

Dean put his phone out of the jacket, checked the caller ID, and tried to shy away without answeing. As Sam had been pretty much paranoid about Dean's shifty behavior ever since he had started bromancing with Crowley, no one could fault him from acting like a panicky giraffe and wrestling the phone away from his brother.

"What the- it's Cas," Sam looked down at the still ringng phone, and then to Dean, eyes accusatory. "It's Cas. Why are you ignoring him?"

"What, no, I was just-"

"Dude, what if he's in trouble? Whatever, I'm putting him on speaker."

You must understand, that the last time Sam saw Cas was right after they had cured Demon Dean. As Cas had bailed on them right after Sam had explicitly told him to stay with Dean, Sam, being the considerate and reasonable friend he was, had made the assumption that Cas was on a very important mission on which the fate of Heaven depended.

With this point of view in mind, doomsday scenarios which should be laughable but was depressingly plausible in their lives flashed before him, and he had to interfere, his brother's sudden squirmishness be damned. The thought that his brother might be still being plagued by the discomfort caused by the Supernatural musical had been momentarily forgotten in his worry for the fate of the world.

"Hey, Cas," said Sam, sending a very pointed look at his brother. "Sorry for answering late. What's up?"

"Oh, hello, Sam. I thought I was calling Dean," Cas sounded worried. "Not that I'm not glad to hear from you, but did something happen to Dean?"

"I'm fine, Cas," Dean croaked. He also sent his own pointed look at his brother. "Sam was just being nosy. So why did you call, did something happen?" 

"No, nothing. I just wanted to check on you. How are you, Dean?"

"I'm fine," said Dean, glancing at his brother. Sam felt the overwhelming urge to redact the word _fine_ from the English dictionary, but that was nothing new. "What about you? You- enjoying your road trip?"

"Many of angels are now back in Heaven," said Cas, revealing nothing. He learned the art of bullshiting well from the Winchesters. 

"Anything interesting to share?" Sam pushed.

"I fed the ducks today," Cas said after a moment of contemplation. "Charlotte was kind enough to share her bread with me, and the ducks were satisfied with the quality of her bread. In fact, they favor her over other visitors."

Sam was about to give a witty retort here, but Dean beat him into it saying,

"Charlotte?" 

And, and, Sam bit his cheek to maintain his nonchalant expression. He would recognize that tone of voice from his brother anywhere, and holy crap, was Dean showing jealousy?

"She lives in a retirement home near the park," Cas replied, oblivious to the drama he had incited. "She found feeding ducks to be peaceful and wished to share her joy with me."

"Oh," said Dean. His face softened into fondness, and Sam started to have an uncomfortable feeling of being a voyeur even though nothing untoward was happening.

"Did she call you Charles, too?"

"Who's- ah. No, she didn't find me pretty. I reminded her of her son-in-law."

"Aw, cheer up, Cas. You can't win everytime."

It was the obvious flirtious tone- Jesus did they know what they were doing- combined with the inside joke that even _he_ didn't know that finally broke Sam.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Destiel is killing me."

It went without saying that Sam had meant to keep it inside his head. However, as formidable as Sam's dam of patience was, there was a limit to the amount of unresolved sexual tension that little brothers could put up with, and this was the precise moment that the said dam couldn't hold it together anymore. So far, he had made such valiant effort to resist making Destiel jokes after the Supernatural musical in order not to freak out Dean, but no, all his effort had to be ruined because he had to blabber about it in front of Cas. Dean's frozen expression pretty much signaled the internal crisis that was about to come roaring in.

"Sam," Cas's voice was urgent. "What's Destiel?"

Sam was not ashamed to admit that he had bolted after that. 

Because, seriously, what was he suppose to do after that question? _Hey, good question, Cas, allow me to explain. Destiel is a portmanteau name for you and Dean, as in, together. You guys were so obvious that even the people who couldn't witness your longing stares in real life felt it through the pulped pieces of dead trees and figured out that they would explode from the secondhand UST unless they bashed your stupid heads together with fan fictional hands and said, NOW KISS!_

That amount of candor might have induced heart attack from Dean. 

Of course, Sam could have curbed his frustration and explained more calmly, that people sometimes liked to imagine certain fictional characters to be together, and in this case, Destiel just happened to be Dean and Cas from Chuck's books.

However, presenting the idea itself to the pair of morons who had been pining for each other was just asking for explosion, not unlike trying to have a candel lit dinner in a room full of gasoline. Sam had no wish to be get swept by the inevitable discussion that would follow the revealation of Destiel. If he had to see Dean and Cas awkwardly dancing and flirting around each other to gauge the other's intention with anything approaching seriousness, Sam's already crumbled dam would insist that he had to interfere before they rounded themsleves into a corner of miscommunication and- No.

Sam would do anything for Dean, but hanging out while he hashed out his romantic feeling for his future angelic boyfriend was definitely not on his to do list. He learned his lesson in college. You didn't get between the couples and their first declaration of love, you just didn't.

He was sorry that he had accidently thrown down the grenade but maybe this could turn out to be a good thing. Who knew, maybe they would be having a phone sex by the time Sam came back.

Ew. No.

Sam lunged into the Gas'n'Sip building, and vowed to himself not to get out unless Dean explicitly told him that the situation was clear. No more Interrupting Moose, he solemly swore as he purchased a moldy sandwich. He wanted to buy a pie as an apology gift but they were unfortunately fresh out of pies and although he wouldn't have minded some hotdogs, he couldn't look at anything phalic shaped straight now.

He chewed his sandwich slowly, trying not to choke on it in his anxiety. Dean must have confessed, right? Or Cas must have. If others could read the subtext, so could they, right? It was a fan fiction worthy of a set up. The only thing missing was a cheesy romantic song. 

He was surprised out of his skin when his phone vibrated against his thigh. 

"Dean? How-"

"Get in before I ditch you." 

Sam made a bitch face at the small beep sound that signaled the end of the one very rude and one-sided phone call, but his annoyance was soon replaced with worry. What happened?

When he came back to the Impala, Dean was sitting rigidly, hands glued to the wheel. 

"Dean, I'm sorry-"

"You've got pie?"

"No, they were out. I could get some other-"

"No, of course they don't have pie. Just get in, Sam. I'm not hungry."

Sam sighed. He knew he would eventually have to coax out the full story from Dean, but now was not the time. Dean would clam up faster than ...a clam if Sam tried to force him open.

What did they do? They couldn't have gone to the _Dude, Destiel maybe a thing, but we're not a thing. We're just best friends, who are very straight and only pine after each other in a totally platonic fashion_ route, could they? 

The aftermath seemed to point otherwise. Sam lightly banged his head against the window. He should have turned on some cheesy romantic music before he left.

"Dean, you know I'll be fine with it no matter what happens between you and Cas, right?" Sam threw in as a last ditch effort. He had tried not to freak out Dean, but at this point, everyone and their mother was freaked out. Might as well prevent the future freak out while they were currently freaking out at full force.

"Nothing's happening, Sam." 

Sam dropped the topic at Dean's rigid response. There would be time for Dean to process the Destiel concept as a real thing.

What Sam hadn't considered was this:

"Sam, what is Destiel?"

Dean bit back a curse as Moose bolted out of the car like his ass was on fire. And rest assured, Dean would make that happen because-

"Sam, Sam! Dean, what's happening? Is Sam being attacked by Destiel?" Cas's voice was starting to become alarmed, and Dean had no choice but to respond instead of flinging the phone away as he wished to.

"No, Cas. Sam is fine. He's not being attacked by Destiel," _Unlike me,_ Dean thought resentfully.

"Oh, that's good." Pause. "But why did he say that Destiel was killing him? Dean, what is Destiel?"

"It's nothing, Cas-"

"Dean, I'm worried," Cas cut in softly. "I tried to contact you after I left the bunker but you weren't answering. Is Destiel something bad?"

Dean swallowed. No, Destiel was good, too good for him, actually. But Cas was on the road trip with some chick or whatever and he needed to let it go.

It wasn't fair for Cas to use that tone of voice with him. 

"No, it's nothing to worry about," and like the sucker he was, Dean found himself starting to explain. "There was this case a few days ago in some girl's high school. They were playing a musical based on, uh, you remember Chuck?"

"The prophet who wrote the Winchester Gospel?"

"Yeah, that, Supernatural or whatever. Anyway, they were playing a musical based on Chuck's books with props and musics and everything and-," a sudden inspiration struck him as he talked. "There was a tulpa."

"A tulpa?"

"Yeah, you see, Destiel is a name of an angel," Dean became more animated as his clever idea took on a clear form. He knew he was good at improvisation when he was forced into a corner. "A fictional, fan created angel. A tulpa made angel." Hah, take that! Dean felt triumphant. He had successfully wiggled his way out of having to explain the ship to Cas. 

"Oh," said Cas. "But doesn't that mean Destiel is dangerous?"

"What?"

"You said there was a case. You wouldn't have gone there unless Destiel did something destructive enough to catch your attention."

Damn Cas and his hunter training! Dean scrambled for explanation. If Cas thought that Destiel was dangerous, he would come straight here and Sam would hear about his take on Destiel, and there was no way Dean was going to let that happen. "No, it was just a misunderstanding. People were disappearing, but as it turned out- Destiel only took them out for a few days to make them feel better."

Now what the hell was coming out of his mouth?

"The angel was trying to make people feel better by abducting them?" Cas questioned doubtfully, and rightfully so. 

"No, like, you know, sometimes you gotta get away from your life and take a rest? Destiel was helping them with that. Destiel is an- angel of rest or something." 

"Then when Sam said Destiel was killing him-"

"He meant that Destiel was killing him with all the rest she was forcing on us." 

Dean had no idea why he had slipped in a female pronoun. Dean was male, Castiel was male -well, sort of- so if anything, Destiel should be a male angel. Maybe it was because Dean was caught in a story he himself had created, and the image of some thirty something male frolicking in the sunset with high school girls set off his jail bait warning, angel or no. 

Maybe he was a bit bitter about Cas's female friend.

"She's traveling with you? You didn't destroy her?" Cas asked sharply.

"Hey, she wasn't doing anything harmful," said Dean, feeling oddly protective about Destiel. "She just pops in sometimes. And you try erasing that idea from the fans' minds. They're totally dedicated."

There was a long silence from the other line of the phone. "Is she a good angel?"

"Yeah, she is." _So please don't come all avenging angel and let Sam find out what kind of bullshit I pulled out of my ass._

"I- that's good," Cas said, but his voice sounded forced.

Dean frowned. "Cas, is something wrong?"

"No, it's fine. I- have to go."

"Hey, wait a minute- Cas, Cas!"

And of course, the son of a bitch had to hang up on him. Dean immediately called back like a love sick teenager, but of course, Cas had more important thing to do. Probably with Hannah. 

Dean fumed, all the satisfaction he had felt from his smooth handling with the Destiel situation gone. He wanted to drive away, fast.

Where the hell was Sam?


	2. Show me Destiel

A week after the Destiel incident, Sam made contact with Cas. Quite literally, in fact, as he tripped over Cas who had been communicating with a wayward bee while he had been crouched down in front of the bunker door. The moral of the story was that mooses should not be so hyped up about their morning jog, and that bees would ignore you if you were in a less than dignified state. Cas looked at the bee go sadly, and turned to Sam to help him up.

"Hey, Cas, I didn't know you'd be coming over," said Sam after the urge to shout, _Jesus on a fucking pogo stick!_ at the throbbing pain in his hands and knees faded. He found out that his desire not to know if Jesus had been on a fucking pogo stick was surprisingly effective on making him keep it together. He feared that Cas might provide affirmative answer for his random curse words. 

"I got some time off from searching for the angels. I thought to just 'drop by'," Cas said, showing off his forays into using more colloquial language.

Sam smiled, but looked at him quizzically. "You wanted to hang out with us?"

"Essentially," Cas said, suddenly sounding uncertain. The kicked puppy look in his eyes made Sam feel like a blackened gum stuck on sideways. Of course angels could also feel the desire to have some downtime, why did Sam have to question that? Granted, whenever they were spending some time together during their past six years of acquaintance, they had always been weathering through one crisis after another, and Cas had seemed keen on skipping off when the said crisis was over, but if Cas wanted to change the status quo, who was Sam to get in the way of that?

"Well, it's good to have you here," Sam hastily clapped him on the shoulder, feeling relieved as Cas's lips quirked upward. "You're lucky to have caught Dean and me here instead of on the road. What were you going to do if we had gone on a hunt?"

"I thought I would just wait here, then."

Sam bursted out laughing before he could stop himself. That musical was going to be the death of him. He lamented the fact that Dean hadn't been here with him to hear those exact words coming out of Cas's mouth. 

"Sam?" Cas said, possibly fearing for Sam's sanity.

"No, I'm fine," Sam waved away his concern, occasional scoffing sound still escaping him. "Come in, want some coffee?"

"Yes, please. I believe I've become somewhat addicted."

They enjoyed the quiet until Cas decided to ask,

"Oh, I was just wondering, how do you feel about Destiel?"

If Sam hadn't known better, he would have accused Cas of deliberately waiting until Sam could choke on coffee properly.

"Uh- what?" Sam croaked after much hacking.

"How do you feel about Destiel," Cas repeated the question, slowly this time.

Sam's brain took a bit more seconds to log on as he hadn't expected to be confronted with the matter so directly, but then again, this was Cas. He should have been used to Cas being blunt at this point. 

"Well, it's not exactly my business, but you have my full support if you want to go for it," Sam said carefully once he regained his bearing back.

"It? Do you mean Destiel?" Cas cocked his head.

That was not on the list of reactions Sam had prepared himself for. And yes, Sam Winchester had frantically planned for The Talk after his Destiel slip.

"Uh- yeah?" Sam was baffled. This _let's be a supportive little bro_ was even harder than he had imagined it to be. And he had quite an imagination. "Wasn't that what we were talking about?" 

"Cas!" 

Their little discussion halted abruptly as disheveled Dean emerged from his room. He looked stunned at the appearance of the unexpected guest, then mighty self-conscious.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, failing to discreetly pat his hair down to look more presentable. 

"I wanted to hang out here. It has been a long time," Cas said sincerely, inspiring one of those long staring. Sam desperately wanted to clear his throat, but stopped himself, wondering if that action would go against his previous statement of supporting Destiel fully. 

"Yeah, cool," said Dean, feigning nonchalance. It was kind of painful to look at. "So, what you want to do?"

"Actually I-," Cas faltered slightly, then said, "I think we should talk about Destiel a bit."

Sam swore Dean's heart stopped beating for a second at this point. Either oblivious or determined, Cas went on, "I was actually trying to talk with Sam about-"

"Cas!" Dean shouted loudly, snapping out of whatever trance he had been in. "I think we should have this discussion without Sam here, don't you think?" He tried to send a significant look at the angel, but soon figured it would be ineffective, and turned toward Sam with pleading expression.

"But Dean, this also concerns Sam-"

"No, no, I'm fine, Cas," Sam hastily but firmly reassured as he stood up. He had no interest in getting in the way of that discussion, especially when it looked like it was finally going somewhere. "Have a nice talk, and remember that I support you guys both from the bottom of my heart," he called out as he snatched up a second cup of coffee and made a beeline for the library. He decided to keep it safe and fetch earmuffs along the way, too. 

Unfortunately for Sam, and all the supporters of Destiel, Dean and Castiel's conversation went along like this: 

"Jesus, Cas, you can't just drop that on a guy like that," Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't understand," Cas looked lost.

Perfectly reasonable reaction, considering that he thought Destiel was some random angel, which was Dean's fault. Dean resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall because he didn't want to look anymore suspicious. Maybe he should just come clean- but no, that would only make things awkward. They weren't- Cas didn't think of him like that, and why did those fans have to coin some weird name for them?

"Never mind. I was being grouchy for no reason," Dean said, and it spoke volumes about how long they knew each other that his excuse only made Cas look more skeptical. "Anyway, how much did you talk about Destiel with Sam?" Dean asked, anxious.

"Not much, Sam's only point was that he would support it if I went after Destiel," Dean wanted to crawl into a hole. Cas appeared thoughtful. "Dean, is there a reason you and Sam use different pronouns for Destiel?"

"What?"

"Sam said _it_ whereas you used _her_ regarding Destiel. I'm just curious because you guys always applied the vessel's gender to angels without exception. What's the change?"

Fucking pronouns, seriously, Dean mentally groaned because he had not anticipated Cas fixating on the idea of Destiel like this. It was supposed to be a one time lie, never to be discussed with. How did it came to this? How much background must Dean build for this imaginary angel? He gritted his teeth but persevered as it already seemed too late to back out.

"Destiel- wanted to be called _it_ so we are going along with that," said Dean, thinking it would be easier to discard the gendered pronoun to keep the facade going. He thanked his lucky star that Sam and Cas's discussion hadn't gone so far, because Sam would've definitely started prying if Cas referred to the ship name as a she. That was definitely weird. He paused as another thought occurred.

"Say, Cas, does it bother you when we call you he?" he asked, six years after their first meeting.

"Angels don't have genders and most of us don't care whatever humans call us," Cas shrugged. "That said, I'm quite comfortable with being a 'he' after occupying this vessel alone for years and having been human."

"Oh, good to know."

"Yes, it was educational. Anyway, what does Sam have against Destiel?"

Someone save Dean from angels and their abilities to change topics at the drop of a hat.

"Come again?"

"Sam said he approved if I wanted to go for Destiel, which means he approves of me hunting it, right?"

Dean was going to throttle that kid.

"No, no, we're not doing that."

"You don't agree with Sam's assessent?"

"More like, Sam didn't mean it for you to hunt its ass down. He meant-" _you and me as an item, but no, don't go there, come on, brain, work, work._ "-that you might want to take it to Heaven, since you know, technically Destiel is an angel," Dean sputtered out, hoping he was making any sense, and dived for the coffee pot. What he really wanted was stiff drink, but he couldn't afford to be less than 100% on game here, so caffeination it was. 

"That would be unfair to Destiel, I belive. It won't fit in Heaven," Cas said, looking like he had already pondered upon this subject.

"Why?" asked Dean, reluctantly engaged in the conversation. "It's based on Chuck's books, it gotta be more accurate than other sources."

"Yes, but it doesn't describe our true forms much, so I have to assume that fans wouldn't havd been able to imagine it as an angel accurately enough to perform in Heaven."

True form, right, Dean swallowed. It was so easy to forget that Cas wasn't just 40 something dorky guy that he was used to seeing. He was this Chrysler building sized wavelength of celetial intent, Dean had to remember. All the more reason to hide Destiel from him. Cas won't like it. 

"Dean, can you please call Destiel here?" Cas asked, stumping Dean once again.

"Why?"

Cas blinked, as if he didn't think his request could be denied. "We're calling angels back to Heaven for a reason, Dean. We did enough damage. Destiel can't be brought to Heaven, but it has angelic power. Surely, you don't think I can just let it roam free without checking it first?"

That made sense. Too much sense. But Dean wasn't God, he couldn't pull non-existent angels out of his ass. For one desperate second, he actually considered using tulpa symbol to bring Destiel to life, but he knew that would be beyond idiotic.

"Yeah- I understand, but the thing is, Destiel can't be summoned. I think fans forgot that detail. And it's not answering prayers now," Dean explained haltingly, wondering why his life couldn't be simple for once.

Cas sighed, looking troubled. Then a determined expression crossed his face. "Then explain to me, Dean."

"What?"

"Explain what Destiel is like. I trust your judgement, but I think I'll be much more reassured if I could hear about it from you."

Dean was trapped. He couldn't scoff away Cas's concern, not after the whole Ezekiel-was-actually-Gadreel fiasco. He couldn't show Destiel to Cas to prove how okay the angel was. And if he let Cas go now, he might try to seek answers from Sam, and Dean couldn't think of a reason to stop Cas from doing that.

There was no way but for Dean to give a blow by blow account about Destiel.

"Yeah, sure," said Dean, desperately craving his former demonic power to disappear into thin air.

He was so screwed.


	3. The Levee Breaks

Dean Winchester had dozens of fake identities, was able to pass himself off as a fed even when he looked like a fucking kid, and lured archangels and Kings of Hell alike into a trap with his words. He was a seasoned con, a bullshitter extraordinaire. Compared to what he had already achieved, this crisis was a piece of cake.

Yeah.

"So, uh, what do you want to know?" Dean rocked on the bottom of his heels, suddenly very aware of his body and uncomfortable with where to place it. Rookie nerves, he easily identified it, but that did nothing to make him feel suave and confident. What did he know about the angel Destiel - female, kinda helpful, what else?

"Firstly, how did you figure out that Destiel was safe?" 

Of course, Cas would worry about the trustworthiness of the unknown angel first.

Which just happened to require a lot of background.

 _Easy, Cas, it's too imaginary to pose any real threat,_ a hilarious part of Dean supplied. 

Deam told it to shut up and cooperate unless it wanted to get its hilarious ass kicked.

"Ah, that, well, how do I explain," Dean stalled for time. He had told Cas that he had met Destiel on a kidnapping case. Usually, Dean's method of hunting was shoot first and ask questions later, so why had the imaginary Dean held fire long enough to ask questions to the imaginary angel? 

"Sam and I found the kidnapped kid in an abandoned-" 

No, no 'warehouse', Dean stopped himself at the last second. Although everything from djins to angels casually hang out there to do shadowy shits, this case was supposed to be set in high school. No warehouses.

"- music class, you know, in an abandoned building," _yes, keep emphasizing the detail that doesn't really matter_. "Anyway, the kidnapped kid was playing piano there because it was her happy place." 

Dean furtively scrutinized Cas, waiting for him to call him out on his bullshit. Even Dean's inner critic was busy drawling, _maybe you could aim a little higher than this lamest story._ To his relief, Cas didn't seem to suspect anything, just seriously nodding along. That was good. Dean couldn't very well pretty up his story now since he was supposed to be reaccounting a true story instead of auditioning for the worst storyteller position in the world. 

Dean valiantly continued, "we tried to reassure her that we're gonna gank the kidnapper, but she didn't want us to."

Next was the important part, the part where Dean had to sell it. Cas was already leaning forward a little, a furrow between his brows betraying his concentration. God, Cas would look really good in one of those uniforms, getting the suspects to spit out answers, not that he had ever fantasized about-

No, no fantasizing whatsoever in front of Cas, Dean mentally slapped himself. 

The slap, while not physically painful, managed to shock his brain enough to rattle out the wisdom that the best lies usually had their roots in the truth from some corner. So if he applied it in this situation, since he was building up a nice angel, that meant that his model had to be-

-Cas. 

Dean bit his lips. His brain refused to come up with any other options. Wasn't it a bad idea, though? Using his only audience as a protagonist? On the other hand, this idea was all he had. 

Pushing his doubt away, Dean tried to imagine what Cas would do if he ever kidnapped people to make them feel better. His story surprisingly started to line up as some blank faced angel got replaced by the man in front of him.

"You see, this kid had been on the down low for awhile. Then this angel came in and took her to her favorite place. When she was upset, the angel was there for her, and listened to her every word like it was the most important thing in the world," as he spoke, Dean kept thinking about Cas to draw inspiration from him: Cas listening intently, no blame, no condemnation, the light soft above him as he accepted Dean's feeble apology and offered comfort in return. Cas smiling, his true self shining for the first time in the long while, _I'll come with you._ Cas's commenting half-thoughtful and half-amused, _I don't understand, what's so honorable in the bar in the motel room._ Cas's eyes so warm and concerned Dean could feel them even through the phone, _How are you, Dean. Are you okay?_

After certain point, Dean was no longer concentrating to expand his lies and was rather letting the images wash over him. The thread was pulled and the whole sweater was unraveling. 

"That sounds- admirable. So the girl was okay?"

Dean distantly heard a soft, rumbly voice, and swam out of his trance like state. He raised his head up like a man out of dream, his eyes directly falling into deep blues full of kindness and empathy even though they were tinged with weariness.

"Dean?"

This was a mistake, Dean realized. There was a reason he tried not to think much about Cas these days, and certainly not about all the times Cas made him feel cared for. 

_Cas is an arrogant dick sometimes, he will leave again, he's an angel, he doesn't feel about you like you do._

Dean grasped at his old mentra, well worn and tattered, and tried to wrap his head around the other way.

"Dean, is Destiel really safe to be around?"

The old mentra continued to play at the background, but it didn't stop his mind from spiraling down to one point.

_That's why I love you._

"Yeah, I guess it is," Dean smiled crookedly, unable to suppress everything any longer. What he hadn't realized was how Castiel would take him melting into tenderness, talking about the angel Castiel had never even seen before. 

++

While this drama was happening, Sam was lounging around his room, not really reading the random books he had picked out from the library. He felt quizzy with anxiety and nerves, and told himself to knock it off. For God's sake, it wasn't him who had to confess his undying love here! 

At least this round should go better than the last confrontation with Destiel. Dean and Cas rarely got to be in the same place these days, so consequently the tension between them had reached a ridiculous point. Shoving them into close contact while adding the explosive topic that was Destiel could only lead to one place.

God, he hoped he didn't have to sanitize the kitchen table after this. 

Bleach, brain, now.

_Knock, knock._

Sam sat up at the unexpected sound. He put off his earmuffs just to be sure that he hadn't just imagined it and heard,

"Sam, can I come in?" 

What the hell? It had only been -Sam checked his watch- 30 minutes. Dean and Cas should have taken longer than this. Even if they had sorted through their issues in a minute and fell into each other's arms by some miracle, this was not the point they should be calling for little brother.

"Sure?" Sam answered more by reflex than anything, and saw Cas come in.

He couldn't look further from a man glowing in love. He looked tired and resigned and worse, was trying to put up a brave face.

Sam wished to scream into his pillow.

"Hey, Cas, how did the talk go?" Sam asked tentaively. It was obvious that something had gone wrong, but maybe he could help if he could find what was the cause of it.

God help him if it was something along the lines of _We can't do this because I don't deserve you._

"Sam, we don't have to talk about it," Cas said gently. "Dean told me how you felt about it."

"Dean did?" Sam couldn't help his voice going all high pitched. Dean couldn't. He wouldn't have been able to rope Sam into a not-really-a-break-up-but-technically-it-is-speech when Sam did nothing but trying to show how fucking supportive he was of their relationship. "What did he say?"

"Just that you like Destiel," Cas said, making Sam even more flabbergasted by patting him on the shoulder in a sympathetic fashion. What was this? What the hell was this?

"Cas, you do know what Destiel means, right?" Sam asked, trying hard not to break into a heap of confusion. "You and Dean actually talked about it?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Until now."

"Seriously? You didn't fall into tangent or anything?"

"No, we didn't."

Then why are we at this madness? Sam tried to imagine what could have possibly happened, but all he could think was Dean and Cas going, _Look at how our fictional selves are doing, so compatible! Too bad they're not based on us or anything, because that's definitely not how we're like together._

"Come on, Sam, let's watch a movie. I think you'll like _Now and Then,_ " Cas ushered him, doing that painful smiling thing. 

Sam followed after Cas, too dazed to put up a protest. Before he knew it, the movie was downloaded, he was sitting on the couch, and Dean was coming to join them mutely with a bowl of popcorn. Sam fought his way out of having to sit between Dean and Cas, but now he was pushed into a corner, Cas right next to him, and the space between Dean and Cas so wide that Nile River could have flowed between them.

"Hey, Dean, come a little closer?" Sam tried casually. "I'm craving popcorn, too."

"Just take it. You and Desti- I mean, you and Cas share, I don't want it," Dean thrust the bowl at Sam's direction and shuffled back again. Sam had a half a mind to call Dean out on his Freudian slip, but as the situation was awkward as it could be, decided to put that on hold.

In the course of the movie, though, Sam tried to catch his brother's attention because seriously, they needed to talk. He could have talked to Cas, but he didn't want to watch his sad eyes evolving into kicked-puppy-is-now-drenched-in-rain eyes.

"Sam, you don't like the movie?" Cas asked half way through the movie, sounding disappointed.

Sam was about to say apologetically and diplomatically that he was a bit distracted to enjoy it properly when it occurred to him,

Was Cas trying to cheer him up?

Sam recalled how Cas kept trying to point out various touching and light-hearted moments, especially emphasizing the strength of friendship. He had thought this was some kind of piss off gesture toward Dean, starting from the blatant chick-flick choice of movie, but now that he thought about it, Cas seemed too genuine for it to be all just passive aggressive tactic. 

Was Cas trying to console Sam because Destiel wasn't happening and Sam obviously rooted for it?

Sam wanted to rip his pillow, throw the feathers into the air, and laugh hysterically while standing under them.

"No, no, Cas. I, like it. Thank you for recommending this," Sam said strenuously. Cas visibly brightened, shoulders relaxing a notch.

"Oh, that's good."

Thus began Sam's relentless effort to enjoy the goddamn movie. At one point, he was puking in the mouth a little at all the cheerfulness he was forced to exude, but as it kept Cas relatively content, he endured it with good heart. Dean thankfully kept any snide remarks to himself, or Sam would have been forced to smother his mouth, brother or not. 

Hand on heart though, if every movie watching in the future proceeded like this, Sam would die of stress before he reached his 35th birthday.

As soon as the movie ended, Dean stood up, excusing himself for a bathroom break. A minute later, Sam leaped at the chance and went after his brother, tossing some half-assed explanation at Cas's direction.

"Dean!" Sam bellowed, snatching Dean away right before he could reach the bathroom. "We need to talk."

"What the hell man, I need to piss," Deam tried to push past Sam, but Sam firmly planted himself in front of the door like a goal keeper glaring down at a player who just got a penalty kick.

"No, no one is pissing until we talk."

"What, are you serious?" Dean looked at him like Sam was the crazy one. "Dude, I don't know what's gotten into you-"

"Oh, you don't know?" Sam threw his hands up. "You! You and Cas. Des-fucking-tiel. What the hell did you tell him?"

"Nothing," Dean shifted suspiciously.

"Really? Then why are you and Cas so miserable?"

"Cas isn't miserable."

"Dude," Sam said, fearing that his brother might be actually sincere in his statement. "Maybe we should get you some new eyes. Look at him, he's heart broken."

"Oh, fuck you," Dean tried to walk away, but Sam clutched at his arm, for Sam now knew that some pinings were actually unhealthy to the third party, too, not unlike cigarettets.

Sam was passionate anti-burnt heart-smoker.

Dean tried to wretch himself free, but after figuring out that his brother was one tenacious moose, just decided to drag himself forward by sheer will.

They grappled back and forth until Cas padded to the bathroom's direction to check on them and said in mixture of concern and bewilderment,

"Uh, Sam, Dean, what are you doing?"

At this point, Sam and Dean were locked in a stationary position, Sam's arms tightly wrapped around Dean's right arm and Dean's left arm pushing at the giant shoulder of the octupus to get it off of him.

"Sam's freaking clingy, that's why!" Dean grunted.

"Only because Dean's an idiot!" 

Cas looked at between them.

"In any case, I believe you should let go of each other before you strain your arms," he advised cautiously, his stance telling that he would forcefully remove them from each other for their safety if he had to.

The brothers glared at each other heatedly, then let go at last.

Dean rounded his shoulder with a scowl. A look of guilt flashed on his face as his eyes landed on Cas, but he soon turned his back.

"Where do you think you are going?" Sam shouted, only not chasing after him because he knew it would be futile and leave Cas alone.

"Some place where man can piss in peace!" 

Dean stormed off.


	4. Explain

The door did not slam shut. It was more a controlled click than anything, but Castiel was a celestial being. The sound he perceived was sharp enough to pierce him.

What did he think it would accomplish, coming here? Hannah had looked at him skeptically when he confessed his need to check on Destiel, for it might be dangerous. She had pointed out that the Winchesters were in fact more than capable of killing dangerous angels by themselves, but had shaken her head. "I'm aware of your priority, Castiel. One more week, then I think I can handle it alone," she had left the matter at that.

Perhaps he should have talked more with Hannah before coming here. Then he would have been clear of any deslusion regarding his own motive. He had told himself that his concern was only that of safety, that he was only trying to be a good friend, but the hollow ache left by Dean's absence told a different story. 

"I should go," he said, seeing no merit to his continued presence.

"No!" Sam whirled. His eyes were wide and panicked, and it took Castiel aback, as he saw this man facing hoards of demons and angels with more control than this. 

"No," Sam repeated, more subdued. "Please, don't go. That'll be like, the worst thing you can do," he sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "Sorry. I messed up. I shouldn't have pushed Dean like that, but I was so frustrated. I thought you guys finally worked things out."

"We're fine," Castiel said automatically, an engrained habbit by now, but as the two of them standing in the corridor blatantly contradicted his statement, he amended it to, "We'll be fine."

"Sure," Sam responded dryly. More seriously he said, "Look, Cas, I tried to keep out and give you and Dean some space to sort the problem out for yourself, but it's clearly not working out. Please, what happened?"

Castiel wavered. On the one hand, it didn't seem right to burden Sam about this. He should learn to handle his own erratic emotion alone. On the other hand, it seemed cruel to leave Sam in the dark when Castiel was the who created this mess in the first place.

"Can we at least sit down for this?" Cas admitted his defeat. Sam patted him on the shoulder, and ushered him back to the couch. He seemed to be afraid that Castiel would change his mind if they didn't arrive there in due haste.

Once sat, Castiel dithered at first on where to start. For simplicity's sake, he accounted his story chronologically, starting with the phone call he had with Dean last week. Sam's response was:

"A tulpa."

"An angel?" 

"People were kidnapped to take a rest."

"Of course, a female angel."

Castiel started to worry for Sam's hearing as he proceeded to repeat everything the angel had said. When he vocalized his concern, Sam made an odd expression and just covered his face with his palm, saying that he might as well hear out the full story before he added any commentary.

"When I heard about Destiel-" Castiel bit his lips. The thought of airing out his ugly feelings churned his stomach, but he owed his honesty. He did, however, found a particular spot on the couch very fascinating. "I'd like to say I was selfless in my concern, but I wasn't. Dean had assured me today how good an angel Destiel was, but I mostly felt... fear.

"Of course, it's a relief to know that you would have at least one angel in your corner even after I'm- gone. But the way Dean looked when he talked about Destiel... even though I myself have done and will do everything that the angel had done... the thought that the simple change of gender in the vessel would be-" Castiel swallowed. He was unable to form complete sentences with his heart in turmoil, and even more, wasn't making any sense. He should cease with his unfair speculation. "Maybe that's not the issue. I know what I did. I'm just being irrationally bitter. I feel-" ~~replaced~~ "I'm not sure of my place."

He raised his eyes as he finished his confession, and found Sam hanging his head low. Not being able to see Sam's expression made Cas more nervous, his imagination running wild.

Cas did his best to quash the impulse to flee. 

So that's how we come back to the beginning of the story, with Sam buried in the avalanche that had started with his idle snowball of curiosity (See, he knows how to use a good metaphor). 

In some twisted way, Sam is stunned with awe at the amount of drama Dean and Cas are capable of creating just from an innocent portmanteau. Tulpa, seriously. For someone who sneered at the idea of fan fiction at first, Dean was showing a great potential here.

That, however, is the detached part of his brain speaking, and Sam has to do something about this situation fast. First things first, he has to make this absolutely crystal clear. 

"Cas, I understand how you came to worry about all this, but there's one thing you must know. Whatever you did, or whatever stupid things you do in the future, you'll always have place with us here. You're family," Sam leans in close and holds his eyes, for he is sick of miscommunication and misunderstanding. "Dean's having a mini crisis but he'll come around again. It doesn't change even if some random ass angel comes into the picture. You are the one who has been there for us through all these years. Do you know how rare that is? Don't sell yourself too short. You're awesome. And we'll take care of your grace problem together. I want you here. You're not alone. Do you hear me?"

Cas nods, with still slightly unsure look on his eyes, but that won't be solved by Sam's effort alone. Dean needs to be here for that. For now, Sam does the only thing he can offer and spreads his arms a bit, to show that hug is an option. Cas takes it, hugging back like a pro.

Sam pats Cas on the back, relieved that his words are working in some level. Yet, his mind soon turns over to worry. While this brought them small resolution, the romantic problem still needs to be addressed. He's tempted to spell everything out -Dean loves you, and you love Dean, so could we just go to the confession stage already, pretty please- but no. He's not going to propose on Dean's behalf, and Cas didn't even tell him outright about his feeling, although it was heavily implied. 

As they pull out of hug, Sam gets an idea.

"Cas, I heard the... story of Destiel very well, but I'd like to share other names that Destiel have."

"It has other names?" Cas purses his lips into a thin line. "Nick names?"

"No, no, just other names," Sam says hastily. God forbid, they're not giving a nickname to a goddamn ship (A corner of his mind pipes in _Desty?_ at him, but he's not responsible for that corner, especially since it once thought Snoopadoop was a cool name for a dog). "Sometimes, Destiel is also called deancas, or casdean."

Cas looks confused. "Why... would an angel have a combination of mine and Dean's name?"

At that response, Sam berates his past self for failing to recognize the superiority of the other two ship names. Obviously, he should have said, _For fuck's sake, deancas is killing me._ Even Dean wouldn't have been able to weave such a convoluted tale with an angel named Deancas. Obviously, simple is the best.

"Cas, I know that you're pop culture savvy now," Sam starts off his explanation with this, having noticed how proud Cas was about his new found knowledge. Cas flaunts it whenever a chance came for him, and the guy could surely use some ego boost here. "Have you heard about Brangelina?"

"That's a portmanteau name of the Hollywood couple Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie," Cas recites as if he's reading the information directly from the Wikipedia.

"Yeah, exactly," Sam nods enthusiastically. Cas looks like his mentally petting himself on the back. "Destiel is like that, too. So considering that it's also called deancas or casdean-"

Cas squints. "But that's- shouldn't it be Deastiel in that case?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I thought so too, but well, I didn't create the word."

"Then who did?"

"The fans of _Supernatural._ They read the book, and you know, came up with it."

That seems to be the point where the information properly sinks into Cas. His eyes widen as his previous academic attitude disappears. "They thought we were-" _a couple._ He doesn't finish his sentence, but it hangs in the air. 

Sam's hopeful prediction that this information would be encouraging to Cas is sadly proven wrong. Cas's initial reaction is, "Then why did Dean lie about this?"

"Hey," Sam interrupts before negative thoughts could cloud his friend's mind. "Whatever you're thinking, I'm sure that's not the reason. Dean likes you." Underestimation of the century, but this is as far as he would allow himself to meddle. "If you're still not convinced, the only way to find out is to ask Dean."

Cas clenches his fists and looks away, his eyebrows slanted downward. Sam watches him sympathetically.

"For what is worth," Sam says, squeezing Cas's hands gently. "I don't think you'll hate having that talk with Dean."

Cas remains quiet. 

He slowly opens his fist and squeezes him back.


	5. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight spoiler on 10x10. Nothing major plot wise, but there's something.

Dean likes driving around with Baby. But for this instance, he has to question his life choice. 10 minutes into the drive, he pulls off to the side to thunk his head on the wheel.

 _You stupid fucker, you weren't suppose to leave Sammy alone with Cas!_

One fit of temper, and all his desperate scrambling crumbled into nothing. For God's sake, he even suffered through that chick flick movie -it had some compelling moments but not the point- because he had made Cas believe that Sam was missing Destiel, and probably wouldn't appreciate talking much about that topic! Why did he throw his cautions out of the window when he needed it the most?

He glances at his watch and sighs. It's just too late. Even if he races back to the bunker in full speed, Sam would be already waiting for him with his inquisition finished, rolling on the floor laughing.

No, he's not being fair on Sam. It's gonna be much worse. Sam would give him that soulful, I-feel-your-pain look, the one he has been surreptitiously throwing at him ever since that Incident. Dean doesn't like to admit, but he knows that Sam knows. His brother would be sickeningly _supportive._

The question is, how would Cas react to the fact that Destiel is not an angel? How much did he figure out? Did Sam reveal everything? Maybe there's still time for damage control. There must be some good reason that a person would go to extreme length to stop the other guy from finding out that there were people who saw them as a romantic fictional couple when he could have just dismissed the whole thing as, "Dude, can you believe it?" 

_I was afraid you'd be disgusted by that?_ But no, that wasn't Cas. He wasn't prone to being swayed by gossips. If Destiel was some idle speculation, Cas would make that 'humans are weird' face and move on.

 _You've got Hanna now and I thought-_ Nope, too close. 

_I thought it would be funny how long I could fool you. I was joking_

Dean stops, chewing his lips. The last one's the most plausible one. It doesn't matter that he lost plot at some point and poured his heart out while making up the tales of Destiel. The way Cas smiled silently with his eyes, the way he made ordinary things look special, the way his voice fell soothing and open, the way he put his hand on Dean's shoulder, warmth and strength radiating from him. All the things Destiel was supposed to have but not really, Dean could just sweep them off as nothing.

He knows that Cas cares. Maybe not the way he wanted, but still. That should be enough. Dean can play his best friend until Cas goes back to Heaven with Hannah. He could...

Dean starts the car. They were low on food. He might as well take care of that.

He's not running.

-

Dean is tense as he's back on the familiar road to the bunker. He took his sweet time buying food but it did nothing to help him. 'Would Cas like this?' was the constant question that hung in his mind as he moved around the mall, and although he managed to out-logic himself into thinking that he was only trying to return the favor for that one sandwich Cas had made with all his heart, he wasn't really convinced.

It would be awesome to just go out and drink himself into stupor. Too bad that the situation doesn't really allow him to disappear without a word. Knowing their luck, all the baddies would decide that today is the day to unleash their nefarious plans if Dean so much as step into a bar. Cursing his life in general, he parks his car. Okay, he can do this. He looks at the white knuckle grip he has on the wheel and amends that to, okay, he can go straight to the kitchen and hole himself there until he feels remotely ready. 

He gets out and swings the bags above his left shoulder. With his right hand, he pats himself in search for the key to the bunker. Finding the object, he twirls the key, preparing himself for a mad, yet dignified dash.

For the record, he would have pulled it off, if not for the angel sitting down infront of the door.

"Hello, Dean," Cas says, as if Dean didn't awkwardly freeze, one foot hovering over the stair.

"Uh, hey, hi," Dean's foot makes unsteady contact with the ground. "Did Sam kick you out?"

 _Foot, get out of my mouth,_ Dean despairs. You don't joke about your friend getting kicked out when you yourself had kicked out said friend.

Luckily, Cas appeares to have taken no offense. "No, I needed to think."

"And you couldn't do it inside?"

"I was also hoping to catch you first."

Crap.

"Miss me?" Dean quips automatically, which results in him realizing a split second later- crap, this thing always backfires on Cas.

"Of course," comes the reply, proving his point.

Dean clears his throat. "So, what did you wait me for?"

"I was wondering," Cas hesitates. "Why did you lie to me about Destiel?"

Dean's mind is blank. He remembers preparing himself for this conversation, but faced with Cas's downcast eyes, he can't think of anything. 

"I- why do you think I did?" 

"I wouldn't be asking if I knew, would I?" Cas points out wryly. He sighs and fixes his eyes at some point in the sky. He seems to be stuggling with words. Dean waits, and does not stare at his exposed throat, or the peak of flesh between the unbuttoned shirt in that brief lull of silence. He only puts his bags down as it looks like this conversation would take awhile. The key is still in his hand, giving him something to fiddle with.

"Dean, do you know how prayer works?" is what Cas comes up with at last.

Dean squints, wondering about the sudden topic change. 

"Prayer?" 

"Yes. How do you think it works?"

"Um, a voice mail for angels?" Dean answers flippantly. He doesn't want to think about how raw the prayers leaves him. 

"Similar," Cas concedes, though not quiet satisfied with the answer. "If less controlled than that. It's more like- it doesn't have to be a formal prayer for it to reach me. I can- pick up on a longing."

Dean's stomach plunges, white horror spreading through his body. He thinks he can pretty much bypass as Casper the ghost now.

"Longing," he repeats, and swallows thickly. "Like what, everytime I-" _think of you you can feel me?_ He can't even say it out loud, because it sounds like a line from a cheesy romantic song. How much- just fucking how much does Cas know? Jesus, he thought prayers were a bit soul baring. How much did he dump on Cas without knowing?

"I can't feel what the nature of the longing is, Dean," Cas says without looking at him. Dean doesn't know whether that should reassure him or not. "It could be that you're in a grave danger, or that you need to tell me some plan of yours. It just that sometimes, you call for me even when you don't quite realize it."

Cas's eyes flicker toward his direction, but they are unreadable. "You were calling for me when you were talking about Destiel."

Dean remains silent, standing rigid.

Cas looks down. "You looked so.. I could see you wanted it, very much. I thought that meant you found someone that you couldn't wait to talk about, even to me. I thought-" he shakes his head. "I accepted long ago that me having a male vessel would stop whatever could happen between us-"

"Wait, wait, hold on, who said nothing can happen?" Dean blurts out.

Cas's head snaps up, eyes wide.

"I mean," Dean scrambles, feeling heat in his face. "That's not the problem here," he forges on though he wants nothing more than to hide in some convenient hole. Damn if he's gonna take a fall for this mess. "You've got Hannah," he points out indignantly.

Cas looks at him, expression blank with incomprehension. "Hannah?"

"You-" Dean flounders. "You and her, you're not, you don't like _like_ each other?"

Dear God, someone save him from reverting back to kindergarten.

"Like- no!" Cas denies quickly once he understands the situation. "She's a good angel, but that's all."

"Oh, that's- that's good," Dean states, last drop of indignation gone and terribly embarrassed. "Yeah, uh, good."

"Dean," Cas says, kindly putting end to Dean's stuttering. "Why did you lie to me about Destiel?"

This is it, Dean can feel it as he looks into the pair of blue eyes. Last chance to back out. He's scared, heart hammering loudly. But on the other hand, he doesn't want to let this go without even trying.

Slowly, Dean crouches low and leans forward, giving plenty of time for Cas to pull out if he wants to. Cas looks stunned for a second, but his eyes crinkle into silent smile, shining brightly. They end up smooching their lips together and nothing more, as they're both grinning too big. 

"Stop it," Dean says, leaning his forehead against Cas's. "I'm trying to kiss you here," he says with sudden bolster of boldness, and breaks into a peal of laughter. "I was such an idiot. I lied because I wanted Destiel so bad."

Cas pulls a face. "Don't say Destiel for a while. I'm still stuck on the image of some random angel."

"Why, jealous?"

Instead of answering, Cas wraps his hand on the back of Dean's neck and pulls him into a deep kiss. Dean's eyes widen in surprise, then close in pleasure. _Finally,_ a part of him whispers.

They part reluctantly. Dean's sure Cas could have go on for a bit more, but Dean unfortunately had to breathe. 

"Hey, Cas," says Dean, smiling goofily. "Can you still feel my, ah, longing?" In some way, the revelation feels like a huge burden off his shoulder. He no longer has to hide. 

"I think I rather want you to call my name in other way," Cas replies innocently.

"Oh, my God," Dean groans, thinking that it shouldn't sound so hot. He glances away for a moment to gather himself, and belatedly realizes that he's kneeling on the concrete. They're about to make out while they're still outside. He scrambles up. "Can we continue this inside, please?"

"Yes," Cas nods, getting the message. "You might want to take them with you."

"What?" Dean follows Cas's finger and finds the forgotten bags of grocery. "Yeah, let's put them into kitchen and go to bed, uh," Dean glances up. "Of course, we can totally do other things if you want. Movies-"

"Bed," Cas says firmly, taking the key away from Dean's clenched fist.

Cas opens the door, and Dean follows him, both arms heavy with his loads.

"Oh, Dean," Cas turns back on the top of stairwell, his eyes suspiciously innocent again. "Why did you make Destiel wear cowboy boots?"

-

Sam is in the war room, playing with his phone and waiting. He'd much rather be somewhere more comfortable, but the first time he had left them alone, things went sour pretty fast. He wants to be ready in case he needs to do some quick damage control. Finally, he hears soft click of the door opening, and cranes his neck. He sees Dean and Cas coming in, face glowing with happiness. Sam allows himself to relax, because that's evidence enough that they're each past their misunderstanding. 

Instead of coming down right away, Cas turns to face Dean. Sam can't see whatever he's doing, but thanks God for that because he doesn't want to know why Dean is blushing scarlet.

 _Okay, I'm out of here_ , Sam thinks as hurries along the corridor. During the long hours after Cas went outside to brood, Sam has filled the room furthest from Dean's room with blankets, pillows, earmuffs, snacks, books, laptops and dvds. He even checked that a bathroom was adjacent to the room and dragged the couch to his sanctuary after half an hour had passed with nothing going on. 

In essence, he's armed, and he has a fortress. He's ready for anything casdean could throw at him.

Sam burrows himself into the couch, sighing contentedly. As he no longer has to fret about them pining for each other when it's painfully obvious that their love is requited, he's gonna take his goddamn well-earned break and enjoy it.

"Fucking finally, you assholes," Sam mutters, grinning. He begins rewatching the Lord of the Rings.

He and Charlie would have a lot to talk about when she comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10x10 kinda broke my brain with that 'longing' line, because seriously, did canon out-romance my attempt at romantic fan fiction with that retcon? I felt the immediate need to incorporate that info into my fic, which led to shameless fluff :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride. This is my first finished multi-chapter fic. And over 10k! This was supposed to be 1k crack work about Dean's Freudian slip on Destiel, but somehow it took over my life. (And Sam's, he wasn't supposed to suffer this much) Thanks for sticking with me until the end :) I'd love to hear from you what you thought about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have other fics to write, and I can't believe I wrote this, but apparently, I shouldn't have lurked around Tumblr. That place is a disaster waiting to happening (like Destiel). Hope you enjoyed x)


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